


Terror Ponies

by GrumpkinVicky



Series: Promptfics 2020 [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Camp Nanowrimo, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25055854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpkinVicky/pseuds/GrumpkinVicky
Summary: Rage is having a bad day. A very bad day.
Series: Promptfics 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813141
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Terror Ponies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [polymorphic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/polymorphic/gifts).



> Another prompt fic!

Rage wasn’t hiding. Mischief’s minions were in force, loudly shrieking and jumping. Rage was not hiding.

Vindictive was hiding from Rage, Rage knew this because Vindictive visited Rage often, and in Rage’s need hadn’t appeared. Compassion was avoiding Rage, Compassion would not do as Rage wanted when it involved Mischief’s minions. They kept climbing on Rage as it tried to do Rage things, like destroy the sweet-scented grass that screamed as it digested. 

Rage removed itself when the caregivers appeared to throw food at the minions, removed itself off to the fracture that crackled quietly back to where it's long lost kin resided.

It smelt of Vindictive this place, and of Compassion who appeared briefly to disappear through and then back before it returned to Mischief’s side like the lapdog, it was—leaving Rage to quietly be Rage next to the faint trickles of its first home. 

The faintly familiar twinges of another creeping around the edges peeked through to disturb Rage’s strength-building exercises, as Mischief called them. Rage thought of them as dexterity, agility, how it could bounce up sheer cliffs that lessers could not.

Terror, a weak one, followed by another, slipped through to hover close to the trickle. Rage ignored them, it was busy, there was a tuft of yellow flowers that deserved to be shown the full force of Rage’s might on an outcrop no lesser creature could reach. 

It forgot about the insignificant weaklings huddling together, the yellow flowers soon falling to Rage’s superiority. It forgot about them until Rage decided to head back to Mischief’s domain to get the recognition of Rage’s power over all. They followed Rage.

Rage pretended not to notice until it was near the subtle barrier that required a bigger minion to open. It pretended not to see how the two terrors were trailing after it like the minions did after Mischief.

“Friends of yours?” Vindictive asked, lounging against the gate with a crossbow cocked and in hand.

Rage glared at Vindictive, who held its hands up. 

“Want me to kill them?” It asked again, as the two terrors trembled behind Rage. Rage sniffed and headbutted Vindictive as it passed for leaving it alone with the minions who kept pulling on Rage’s ears and tail. “I’m going to take that as a no.”

Rage carried on to where Compassion was busy laying down fresh straw in the place that Rage had claimed as it’s own. “Helping,” Compassion muttered, daring to scratch behind Rage’s ears as if to ask for forgiveness. 

Rage wasn’t sulking, as Mischief claimed Rage did at times. Headbutting the two tiny terrors when they encroached even as Compassion cooed over them. “They will not like you like this,” Compassion was talking to them, Rage headbutted them again as they touched it’s fresh straw, getting terror on it.

Vindictive strolled in as if it owned Rage’s place, before crouching next to the excuses for terrors as the two huddled around Compassion.

“Rage doesn’t like anything touching its bed, but if you turned into things like Rage, then Compassion can hook you up with your own little beds too,” Vindictive dodged as Rage headbutted it again. It was not Rage’s bed, it was Rage’s place. Just for Rage. No terrors allowed.

Rage would not thank Compassion, as it spoke to the two terrors and lead them away. Rage only felt righteous warmth of Rage as they were subjected to Mischief’s minions riding them, leaving Rage alone, for at least a meal of tribute from Vindictive. 

“You know she’s named them already?” Vindictive grinned, pointing at where the two tiny ponies were being led around by the minions, while others were kicking their heels in while riding. 

“Tinky and Winky,” Vindictive cackled, as the two tiny terrors whinnied in outrage. 

Rage was not hiding. Rage had won.


End file.
